


Merry Birthday

by RoarinxRory



Category: Actor RPF, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy Birthday Chris!, Kid Fic, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 06:19:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7879819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoarinxRory/pseuds/RoarinxRory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris enjoys a merry, merry birthday, courtesy of his son, his husband, and his dear friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, Chris! Readers, please enjoy! All my love. --Rory

Chris is displeased when he wakes up in bed alone. The cold sheets regrettably offer no trace of his partner, and the usually welcoming rays of the sun filtering through the window are only illuminating the absence. The notion of being abandoned on this particular Friday blankets him in a bit of sadness.

“Zachary?” he calls out hopefully.

No response.

He pushes the comforter down off his bare chest and props himself up on an elbow. Chris’ blond hair is disheveled from a sweet night of burying his face into the crook of his Star Trek co-star’s neck, naturally fluffy in a lazily adorable way. It's too bad that Spock is missing out on a delectable image of Captain Kirk. Still bleary, blue eyes drift over to the digital clock on the nightstand. At nine in the morning, it's not considered all that early anymore, but it isn't late enough to be out and about, and it therefore means that Zach should be in the house, answering Chris. He pulls his cellphone into his reach, bristling when no sign of Zach greets him on the lock screen over a family picture at the beach.

Ringing Zach doesn't take long; Chris has him on speed dial for obvious reasons. He, however, doesn't expect to get directed to voicemail right away and doesn't bother leaving a message after the beep. It seems that everyone is texting and calling him, though, besides Zach. Zoe sent a lovely photo with her family, accompanied by best wishes. Sofia dropped a heartfelt, emoji-saturated text in his inbox. Karl, John, and Simon made promises to meet up in the near future. Of course, family and friends, save for one, are lavishing Chris with attention.

Chris swings his legs over the side of the bed and works at gaining his full sight. He rubs the sleep from his lashes, forcing oxygen into himself with a yawn. Without Zach, he feels kind of deflated, like half of his energy has been ripped from him. His back is tight with knots, and his neck is sore, and though it's a fine summer day, it's a little too cold in the house for Chris’ tastes. He slips into a pair of lounge pants and a t-shirt and pads to the bathroom to take a quick leak and brush his teeth. It's not like he has anyone to impress, but he wants to be presentable for his own satisfaction. He notes, as well, that he and Zach need to replace their shower curtains soon. The white polka dots are graying, and Chris thinks that rubber ducks would be a nice change of scene.

With the toys in mind, he picks up a duck that has fallen from the edge of the tub and situates it properly next to the faucet. He will also ask Zach to install some type of shelf in the bathroom for their son’s bath stuffs. _Leo!_ Chris’ mind sings at the joyful idea of his son, perking up suddenly at the thought of the little one. Leo has been good lately about sleeping through the night and not making too much noise if he wakes before his fathers, instead entertaining himself with whatever stuffed animals are in the immediate vicinity. It's this reason that Chris trusts his son to be sitting in his crib with the stuffed bear he received from Chris’ sister for his birthday.

He pokes his head into the room with a smile on his face, yet no baby boy is there to return it. _Did Zach take our son somewhere without me?_ he pouts. Not even the dogs, who have squeezed between the crack in the doorway, bring him solace. Noah nuzzles Chris’s palm with nose and whines, so Chris echoes the pitiful noise. “Yeah… Me, too, buddy.”

A pop of his back later, Chris stands and stretches from his seat in the center of Leo’s carpet. If he’s going to be spending the day by himself, he can at least eat as much as he wants, he decides from the rumbling in his abdomen. Chris places a hand over his stomach and makes slow circling motions. “Zach won't lecture me about snacking if he's not around, will he?” Chris mutters to himself grumpily. He drags his feet as he shuts Leo’s bedroom door and trudges to the kitchen. There has to be some sweets in there, some ice cream or a chocolate bar. Chris is really craving something sugary. Maybe he’ll have a bowl of Cocoa Puffs or Cookie Crisps, but if nothing turns up, forget about breakfast.

A floorboard creaks near the dining table behind him, and Chris dismisses it as one of the dogs, but both Noah and Skunk are brushing against his legs. Shrugging, he turns to the refrigerator, which is buzzing mechanically but still manages to be beckoning him. The metal clicks beneath his grip as he pulls it open and meets a… glob of brown and pink?

He squints at it strangely, wondering what exactly it was, where it came from, and whether or not he would be poisoned if he ate it. The table makes a sound again, this time a muffled giggle and a distinct “Shhh!” Chris actually puts his hand up and waves at it as if he’ll get the table to cease, too invested in inspecting the blob of mystery. He scratches the scruff on his chin and contemplates the pros and cons of stuffing it into his mouth first and asking questions later before lifting the plate to eye-level, suspicion about him. The longer he stares at it, the more ominous it appears. It’s jiggling and crumbling, too wet and somehow simultaneously dry. It looks kind of evil, as menacing as a pink and brown culinary disgrace can be.

Then, a piece of paper flutters down to the tile of the kitchen floor, which, by the way, needs sweeping. Chris shoos away the pups as he retrieves the note, bending carefully as not to drop the plated pile of mush. In a funny voice that he doesn't realize he's making, equally atrocious to the scraggly handwriting, Chris reads:

_Come find us!_

_Love, Daddy and Leo_

The “L” is backwards, and the note is in blue crayon, and it's terrible, just… not a good look, despite the fact that Zach probably held Leo’s hand as they wrote the note, but Chris’ heart swells with happiness as he reassesses the chocolate(?) he’s holding. An excited pattering draws Chris to the chatty table at last, a goofy grin gracing him. He sets the dish on the counter next to the sink before covering his eyes, squatting down, and sputtering, “P-P-Peeeek-a-boo!”

As his hands leave, clearing his vision, Chris explodes into a bout of laughter. 

“MEYY KISSMA!” Leo leaps into his father’s open arms. He squirms in the hug, squealing with glee. “Meyy Kissma, Mama!”

Zach nearly bumps his head trying to escape from under the table. Leo is just eighteen months old, and he may be able to fit, but Zach is a whopping three-ish times his son’s size. He evades the table but does trip on a chair leg and groans as he falls flat on his ass. “Leo, baby boy, that's not what Daddy practiced with you.” He sounds a little exasperated, but his voice drips affection. “What did we practice?”

Leo blinks at his father with huge eyes, expansive as the sky and just as blue, too. Christmas has his father's name in it, right? Why is that wrong? He murmurs little syllables, trying to remember what he rehearsed with Zach, and finally shouts, “Haa’ Biffda!”

“That's right, baby,” Chris peppers kisses over his son’s face. He's so proud. “It's my birthday!”

“Cek!” Leo shrieks as his arms reach up past Chris to the potentially deadly substance. So that's what that thing is, Chris presses his lips together awkwardly. He flashes Zach a look that his husband understands unspokenly. _Yes,_ Zach’s raised eyebrows say, _we got up early and made it this morning._ The twitch of his nose adds, _Please eat it. Leo will cry if you don't._

“Okay, let's eat cake, sweet pea.” Chris extends to swipe the food and brings it to Leo, who is clapping his hands together in anticipation. He baked it himself, anyways, and he knows it's just heavenly, in spite of its peculiar presentation. In his impatience, he scoops up a chunk of it and shovels it into Chris’ mouth. Given most of it lands in Leo’s target and not all over his father’s clothes, it could have gone worse.

It's better than Chris expected, sort of fudgy in texture and not actually overbearingly sweet. He attributes its success to Zach, now snapping pictures of his favorite boys to post on Instagram. Zach pipes up shortly after and instructs Leo to “run and get Mommy’s surprise, like we practiced.” Obediently, he wriggles from his father and trots to his parents’ closet. The dogs bark and run after him with a complementary eagerness. Zach cringes at the recollection that there’s still chocolate covering his son but ultimately overcomes the burning desire to sprint after him.

He spins to Chris, who has wiped himself clean with a paper towel. His tongue flicks out from between his lips to catch a glob of stray cake. Cute… Zach thinks. Leo won't be done with rummaging through the closet and grabbing the gift for a few minutes since he buried it deep beneath laundry to hide it properly, giving Zach the perfect opportunity to stalk up to his husband and pull him flush against his chest.

“Hey there. What's a pretty, young thang like you doin’ in a place like this?” One of Zach’s eyebrows is arched, his eyes dancing.

Chris blushes and nudges his husband, putting aside the absurdity of insulting their own home. He indulges Zach’s silly smile and rolls his eyes, forcing his voice into an airier tone. His long lashes bat innocently as baby blues look up. “I'm not sure, sir, but it ain't so bad now that I’ve got such gentleman-like company.”

Snorting, Zach drops the Southern accent and traces Chris’ jawline with his fingertips. It's a romantic setting, the way they’re swaying together to imaginary music, their gaze locked, the pajamas both are adorned in. Pleasant warmth surges around them. Coming to a rest, Zach’s thumb brushes over Chris’ bottom lip and then settles on his chin.

“I thought you forgot about me today,” Chris whispers, leaning into Zach’s touch.

“Never,” Zach’s chuckle mingles with Chris’ breath.

When Zach finally tilts his head down to capture Chris’ lips with his own, Chris sighs with contentment. So much happiness fills him, so much assurance that the world is alright. His baby is on his way back with a big box, and his husband is surrounding him with himself. Words don't need to be said for Chris to know that his family loves him very much.

Leo stumbles into the living room and howls for his parents to join him. He’s hauled the present onto the coffee table and demands that his father opens it straight away. Scrabbling to get a grip on the couch and to flop onto it, Leo situates his little behind into the cushions to wait. “Mama! Dada!” he hollers again.

“Coming!” Chris pecks Zach on the cheek sweetly and slips out of his embrace. He tugs him along by the forearm, plopping Leo onto his lap as he sits. Zach slides beside him and gives Leo the box, wrapped beautifully in sparkly blue paper, a silver bow topping it off.

“Should I shake it?” he asks Leo.

“Yeahh!” Leo bounces while Zach expresses indifference, a clear _Sure, go ahead._

Chris feigns a rattle to amuse his son, smiling as Leo laughs adorably. He picks at the tape gently before peeling back the wrapping paper, revealing a white, unlabeled box. Curiosity bubbles in him as he starts at taking off the lid. He pops the top, revealing a pillow, not quite what he anticipated. It's a lovely, patterned item, Chris decides as he relinquishes the container and studies the back. Purples, blues, greens, speckled with twinkling white stars, it's a galaxy, simply and plainly. Turning it over, Chris’ breath stutters. His eyes swim as he sees the embroidery on the pillow’s front:

_If I had all the stars in the universe,  
_ _My favorite would still  
_ _Be you_

Leo smothers Chris with wet, messy kisses as he sees the fantastic reaction from his father. _Yes, yes,_ Leo grins partially toothily, _Mama likes it._ His arms latch onto Chris’ neck as he gets raspberries blown into him, and he climbs away from his father, flipping onto his stomach and sliding down the couch to the floor as his Daddy kisses Mommy. He glances to the Woody doll next to the TV and walks to it.

“Cahbo…” he mutters, focus averted to the Disney toy. Getting the other box from his parents’ bedroom, like he practiced with Zach, is suddenly less important than Woody.

Zach and Chris, however, do not notice Leo’s distraction, as they are occupied with locking lips. Zach massages the small of Chris’ back with one hand as the other wanders up and down his thigh. Conversely, Chris’ hands are threading through Zach’s hair, traveling occasionally to the sides of his face.

Leo says a little louder, “Mama, Dada, cahbo.”

Breathlessly, Zach tries in between kisses to reply, “In a second, baby.” 

Leo is having none of it, though, tossing Woody to Chris. “Cahbo!”

Chris smiles into a last kiss, a promise to continue in a bit. He picks up Woody just as his brain provides a wondrous idea, the character reminding Chris of a role, played by one Uncle Karl Urban.

“Baby, you wanna play cowboy with Uncle Karl?”

Leo furrows his brow, definitely inherited from Zach, and appears to be in long consideration, as if meditation is in order to come to an adequate decision. He looks between Chris and then Zach and then Chris and then Zach again. Then, he seeks Woody’s input.

“There's a snake in my boot!”

Leo nods. Uncle Karl it is.

“Well then,” Chris pulls his phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants, “let’s text Uncle Karl so you and he can play cowboy. Go get your pre-packed to-go bag so you can sleep there if you decide to later.” With this, Leo hops over to hug Chris’ leg and pat Zach’s, darting on unsteady feet to his bedroom to pack any extra plushies. Chris meanwhile types out:

 _Text to: Karl_  
_Sent 10:29AM_  
_Message:  
_ _hey Karl, Leo misses you and wants to play cowboy. Swing by to grab him today at noon?_

Leo’s fathers’ eyes follow him down the hallway until he vanishes into the doorway. Then, their eyes are on each other and will likely remain that way for the duration of the day (or perhaps forever).

“Uncle Karl?” Zach inquires as he pushes Chris into lying down. He's at Chris’ collarbone as soon as the question leaves his mouth.

“Yeah, Uncle Karl.” Chris hums with the delicious heat his husband’s body radiates, the marvelous buzz he feels.

Zach scoots up to level them and completely spoils Chris with kisses until Chris’ phone beeps at his side. His husband reluctantly gives him enough space to read and send back his thanks.

“What’d it say?” Zach wonders against Chris’ neck why his husband is shaking with laughter.

Chris, absolutely and totally entertained, recalls verbatim, “Karl said, ‘Nice lie. You just want the house so you and Zach can _play cowboy._ '" He smirks at Zach’s stiffening in more ways than one.

Well, Karl isn't wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Thanks marleneonmyshoulder, my babe of a beta.


End file.
